


Don't Assume

by yoshizora



Category: Xenoblade Chronicles 2
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-18
Updated: 2018-07-18
Packaged: 2019-06-12 09:26:22
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,872
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15336852
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/yoshizora/pseuds/yoshizora
Summary: Rex jumps to conclusions about Mòrag and Brighid.





	Don't Assume

**Author's Note:**

> takes place at the beginning of ch5 when the party is headed for fonsett 
> 
> a friend wanted brighid being wounded but somehow the rest of these clowns got involved in the story :(

Special Inquisitor Mòrag and her Blade are amicable, but distant, and it’s clear they’re on their side now but Rex can still feel that length between them and the rest of the group.

Maybe it’s not necessarily a bad thing (Dromarch had a very good point— better to have them as allies than enemies) but it makes the long trek across the archipelago seem that much longer even if they’re able to sweep through the more aggressive wildlife with ease thanks to their overwhelming firepower. Sure, it’s convenient to have them around, but even Tora’s been quiet for the most part.

The two of them linger behind everyone else as they walk, and Rex swears he can feel Mòrag’s stare drilling into his back all the way from behind. They’re _nice people_ , he has enough confidence in that piece of judgment, and he’d like to consider himself to be a decent judge of character by this point in their travels.

… Okay, so maybe he still hardly knows anything about them beyond that they seem willing to help them out for the time being, but that still counts for something.

“We’ll go through here,” Rex announces, pointing to the entrance of the cloudway. It’s foreboding, like the gaping maw of a massive beast, leading deep into apparent darkness within the depths of the Titan and the clouds. “Compared to the other path, this should be a walk in the park. We’ll make it to Fonsett right before the sun sets.”

“Is really safe to go inside?” Tora asks.

“Sure it is,” Pyra says before Rex can answer. “Rex _lived_ here. He knows what he’s talking about!”

“Then, let’s be off,” Fan says.

Rex glances over his shoulder as they venture into the Orl Cloudway. Mòrag and Brighid are muttering to each other and he can’t exactly read their lips, but Brighid raises her head and he swears she’s looking past the others and straight at him. He quickly turns forward again.

The craggy interior of the tunnel stretches in a nearly straight line, the sand littered with the benign fungal growths that sprout within the Titan’s interior and other larger parasites that ignore them as they pass them. It’s dark; light struggles to filter through the dense clouds and translucent openings in the passage.

They come across their first obstacle in a spacious chamber where a large Aspid is aimlessly drifting in circles. Its size alone is enough to make Rex balk, though Fan seems unconcerned and steps forward.

“Hold on—“ Rex starts.

“Is there a problem?” Fan blinks at him. Mòrag and Brighid step up to the front beside her, observing the Aspid appreciatively. “There’s more than enough of us here to get past it with relative ease.”

“Well, sure, but…” Rex points to the other side of the chamber, where three round shapes obstruct the only way through. “I’m also kinda worried about _those._ ”

Urchons. They’re clustered together and so still that anyone else probably would have mistaken them for part of the scenery or one of the Titan’s harmless parasites. The Aspid alone, aggressive as its species may be, should pose no real threat to an Aegis and her companions, but with the addition of three Urchons…

Fan nods. “Ahh.”

“We could sneak around ‘em,” Nia pipes up. “If you’re that scared of a couple pincushions.”

“Aw— I bet you’ve never even fought one before, Nia! They can be a real pain, y’know! They usually don’t show up here, but I guess they must’ve wandered ‘round from the other cloudway.”

“So, your point? We’ve fought worse.” Nia jerks her head towards Mòrag and Brighid, who are still watching the Aspid. Rex quietly groans, and Pyra pats his shoulder.

“Brighid and I can take the Aspid by ourselves,” Mòrag suddenly declares. “The rest of you can dispatch the Urchons.”

Nia grumbles. “Sheesh, who put you in charge already…”

“Sounds like a plan!” Rex, sensing that there’d be no point in arguing over this, draws his sword and gives the Aspid a wide berth while Mòrag and Brighid move directly toward it. Nia and Tora obligingly follow him, while Fan seems more or less content to stay back and observe.

Watching the Flamebringer and her Blade battle is truly an awe-inspiring sight, but they have little time to spare to watch them make quick work of the Aspid. Instead, they only hear it fall in a scorching blaze, making a horrible screeching noise that echoes in a din through the chamber, before they’ve even managed to kill just one Urchon.

Then, the flames dance across the sand and around their feet in a flurry. The Urchons frantically pulsate in reaction to the sudden spike in heat.

“ _Move!_ ”

Tora is the first to fall back, more startled than really understanding what’s happening, and Poppi plucks him off the ground when he isn’t fast enough. Mòrag is a blur that slices through the first Urchon’s defenses— the steel of her blades clang horribly against its exoskeleton but ultimately shatters it, and the other Urchons begin to move towards this new target.

“Oh!” Rex stumbles. “Mòrag, let’s team up—“

“ _Or_ you can calm down! Ever heard of teamwork?!” Nia barks out from atop Dromarch’s back.

“My Lady, please mind your manners—“

Maybe, maybe not, because Rex suspects that someone like the Special Inquisitor might not be the kind of person who typically fights amongst a team— though he could be wrong. He still really doesn’t know. But even if they don’t seem keen on letting him or Nia or Tora continue whacking away at the Urchons, at least they’re doing a far more efficient job than they had.

Once more, he’s reminded of the staggering gap of skill between them. Pyra pushes more ether at him through their link.

“Don’t you notice what they’re doing? They’re trying to divert the Urchons’ attention away from us.”

“That’s fine by me! I think… I mean, is it really okay?”

“Sure, sure. They’re just showin’ off!” Nia rolls her eyes as Dromarch leaps by, and then they’re back to jumping around Brighid’s scattered flames, trying to find a chink in the Urchons’ heavy defenses.

It’s utter chaos with so many things going on at once. The second Urchon goes down relatively quickly, and the third might be on the verge of collapsing, but— Tora tries to jump in too close with a loud cry of determination, unaware that Mòrag had been just about to maneuver to the left ( _in his path_ ) as the Urchon tenses up, quivering— 

Rex hears a sharp gasp of pain through all the cacophony of noise. The Urchon’s spikes are all extended, and on the end of one of them— 

Brighid grits her teeth and slowly pulls her shoulder off the spike. She… pushed Mòrag out of the way? Is that what happened? Rex’s grip on his sword slackens and Pyra tries to tell him to focus, but he’s too busy staring at the gaping wound left that bleeds ether.

“Brighid—”

The Urchon had retreated within itself again. Even Nia stops to watch. They’re all watching, transfixed, as the Jewel of Mor Ardain falls to one knee, face screwed up in pain and a hand pressed to her shoulder.

More of it spills down her back. The spike had gone clean through her.

Mòrag is already there, extending a hand down to her Blade. It feels as though they’re all holding their breaths, waiting to see what would happen, trying to catch a glimpse of what’s beneath the visor of her helm… and she takes the other whipsword instead of Brighid’s hand, and walks right past her to the quivering Urchon.

Brighid bows her head, unmoving. Ether is beginning to soak her dress.

Something in Rex’s stomach lurches at the sight. His eyes widen and he takes a few shaky steps forward.

“Hey…! _Hey!_ Mòrag— aren’t you gonna help her up?!”

Mòrag half-turns, impassive. “She’s fine.”

“She’s bleedin’ all over the place!”

“She’s _fine,”_ Mòrag says again, this time with a note of annoyed impatience. Even Nia looks too shocked for words to even step forward to try to heal Brighid, tightly gripping Dromarch’s fur, and they all continue to do nothing but watch as Mòrag destroys the final Urchon in a blaze of steel and flames. Brighid is still kneeling and bleeding behind her. She hadn't moved at all since handing the sword off to Mòrag, and her flames weakly flicker.

The whips retract back to swords. Lights dance in Rex’s vision from the fires, his breathing heavy, and he can’t believe what he’s seeing— Mòrag stoically staring down at Brighid as if she’s just _waiting_ for her to get up like nothing’s wrong.

Doesn’t she care?

“It’s… not right,” he mutters. Then, more boldly and before Pyra can hold him back, he strides over to them. “It’s not right! You can’t treat her like that! Can’t you see she’s in pain?”

Mòrag coldly regards him, hands folded behind her back. “I won’t repeat myself again, boy. Brighid is _fine._ She is a Blade.”

“That’s right,” Brighid says, though her voice is somewhat strained. “The wound will heal on its own within the hour.”

“So what if she’s a Blade?! She’s still a person!”

Something flashes in Mòrag’s eyes beneath the shadow cast by her visor. “You would presume to lecture _me_ on the treatment of my own Blade?”

“Yeah, I would!”

“Know your place,” Brighid scowls. She’s rising to her feet, unsteady and still keeping her hand pressed to the gaping wound. “Don’t get cocky, just because you’re the Driver of the Aegis.”

“Just leave it, Rex,” Nia says, stepping forward and pulling him back by the arm. “Ardainians aren’t exactly known to be a compassionate lot. Especially the soldiers.”

“No! I’m not gonna leave it! I don’t care where they come from, a Driver’s a Driver and a Blade’s a Blade! If Pyra got hurt, if Dromarch got hurt, we’d all be worried and take care of ‘em!”

He’s fully aware that he’s practically throwing a fit now, but the words won’t seem to stop coming from his throat. He glares defiantly at Mòrag, and at Brighid, unwilling to relent and accept the callous indifference they had all just witnessed. How can any of them accept it? Nia’s obviously unhappy too, and Tora’s got his mouth kept firmly shut as he quakes in silence. Pyra wrings her hands together, biting her lip.

“Would you have rather had me stop to carry Brighid over my back in the middle of battle?” Mòrag sarcastically says. “I would have been slowed down and likely been impaled in a similar fashion. To fuss over her would be to patronize her.”

Brighid nods in agreement, _bleeding_.

“D’you even care about her, Mòrag?!”

Pyra quietly gasps, “ _Rex…_ ”

Mòrag’s eyes flash again, this time with the telltale signs of a growing fury. Her fingers twitch, as if she’s thinking of reaching for her swords, and her mouth begins to curl into a snarl, but then—

“Rex…” Fan speaks up, and her voice alone seems to quell the tension in the air. “Special Inquisitor Mòrag and Lady Brighid have… different customs from what you might be used to. This is no place to argue, besides. Let’s continue on our way to the village, shall we?”

“Y-yes yes, Rex-Rex!” Tora flaps his wings. “Tora hungry! Everyone hungry too, maybe?! Let’s get out of moist smelly tunnel and find food outside!”

 

* * *

 

They make it out without further incident and trek to the next uninhabited island. From there, they can see Fonsett just in the distance, but the battle and the ensuing argument had taken its toll on everyone and there’s a silent agreement to stop and rest in a corner away from the wild Ansels. Nia collapses in a sleepy pile against Dromarch’s side while Tora tries to help Pyra with a campfire. As Rex watches them, mostly to make sure Tora doesn’t accidentally ignite any of his feathers, he fails to notice Mòrag and Brighid slip away until Poppi tugs at his elbow.

“Rex still seem quite upset.”

“Oh— sorry. Do I?” He rubs his neck and tries to loosen the muscles in his face. Fan is sitting in the grass at the opposite side of the fire, watching them, but she says nothing. “I’m fine, really.”

“Is Rex overthinking again, maybe?”

Sometimes, it’s easy to forget how keenly observational Poppi can be. Or maybe she just picked it up from the biting comments Mythra tends to make. Rex sort of winces and looks away from Fan’s piercing gaze, and he finally realizes that their two newest traveling companions had left the group.

But the island is small and there’s nowhere else they could have gone, short of hopping over the edge and into the Cloud Sea far below. Rex can see the faint glow of Brighid’s flames around the corner of one of those massive shells that serve as shelter for the Ansels.

He ought to apologize for snapping out at Mòrag and saying all those things. Yeah. Nia and Fan did have a point, and everything. No, they didn’t, he _still_ doesn’t agree, but…

It’s not really any of his business in the end, so…

“ _Nah,_ ” he firmly says to Poppi, standing up. “It’s okay. I’m gonna go see where those two’ve gone off. Be back in a sec!”

“Okie-dokie,” Poppi nods, then moves over to sit beside Fan.

The evening air is chilly outside the vicinity of Pyra’s campfire. Rex shivers to himself as he nears the faint glow of Brighid’s flames, boots silent in the soft sand, and a soft murmur drifts over across a warm breeze.

And he’s not sure why, but he halts in his tracks before he steps out into view. Slowly, very cautiously, he edges over close to the shell to better hear who’s speaking— it’s Mòrag, her voice too low for Rex to properly make out the words.

“… Please, Lady Mòrag.”

It’s Brighid, that time.

His heart jumps just once in his chest. What’s going on? What are they doing? Is something wrong, again? Rex presses himself close against the bumpy structure and peeks around the corner.

Mòrag’s back is turned, standing very… _very_ close to Brighid, so close that Rex can’t even see Brighid’s face. She doesn’t have her cap on; she looks shorter, somehow. It almost looks as though she’s whispering something to her, but then he notices that her hands are resting on Brighid’s hips and Brighid is loosely holding her waist.

Rex can feel a blush crawling up his neck when he realizes she’s _kissing_ Brighid, planting them softly against her cheek one by one with careful deliberation. He really should leave now—

Mòrag says something else. Brighid strokes her back.

“I know… I know. Thank you.”

The scene is so oddly _tender_ and affectionate, a far cry from the cold display of indifference Mòrag had put on earlier. Rex watches with wide eyes as she lowers her head and bends her neck, and then she’s gently kissing the spot on Brighid’s shoulder where she had been impaled by the Urchon. It had stopped bleeding a while ago, but a small mark remains. Mòrag speaks again, this time more audibly.

“It won’t happen again. I promise— Brighid, I’m… sorry.”

“My, what happened to your speech about patronizing me?”

“I’m sorry.”

“Again, please stop apologizing. It wasn’t your fault.”

“I should have been more vigilant.”

“The wound is already healed. There is no pain.”

“I can see that, but…”

Mòrag pauses, then kisses Brighid’s bare skin with more insistence. Brighid’s hands slide lower as she pulls Mòrag closer. She breathes out—

“—Lady Mòrag…”

That’s. That’s more than enough. Rex ducks back around with his back pressed to the rough exterior of the shell, pulse in his head pounding. That… he shouldn’t have watched. It just wasn’t right, to sneak up on what was clearly a private moment between the two.

But he was _wrong_. What they have is completely different from what he had assumed, and now he just feels awful both for jumping to conclusions about Mòrag and for eavesdropping.

They really do love each other. It’s as clear as day now.

Maybe Mòrag acted that way just to put on appearances, or because she really is kind of a jerk intertwined with all the genuine compassion and care. He doesn’t know. He needs to know. The most powerful Driver in Mor Ardain can’t be all that bad. She just can’t.

Shame burns hot in his throat and Rex, too embarrassed to step out and interrupt them and too afraid of what Mòrag would do if he came clean about what he had just seen, slowly shuffles back over to where the others are gathered around the campfire. Fan gives him a rather amused look with one brow raised that he has no idea how to interpret. Does she know? … Probably.

Only minutes later, Mòrag and Brighid quietly return. Nothing on their faces offer any indication of the moment of intimacy they had just shared, but when Rex makes eye contact with Mòrag for a split second, he’s able to see something different he hadn’t noticed before.


End file.
